Dear Dr. Chanda Ho,
I am writing to you with a heart filled with gratitude—gratitude that I once thought I would never have the chance to express.
On the 8th of May 2024, about 20 months ago, I was transferred from CGH to SGH with a failed liver. I was then just a shadow of myself and at the edge of my life—physically broken, mentally lost, and spiritually defeated.
Physically, I was immobile. I could not even stand up on my own. I was languishing in bed, sleeping most of the time, unable to care for myself, and wearing diapers. I was completely stripped of the dignity that I once had—helpless, weak, and reduced to a version of myself whom I never thought I would become.
Mentally, I had severe memory loss. I was dementia-like, and everyone thought so. My mind had become a fog of confusion and disorientation. I couldn’t follow conversations, couldn’t recognize the faces of those trying to care and help me, and couldn’t hold onto memories. The doctors who examined me saw dementia. I was awake without awareness. At times, I was delirious, and at times, suspicious and paranoid. My family saw me slipping away. And I had given up hope entirely. I was suicidal, ready to surrender to whatever fate awaited me.
That is the version of me when you saw me on 8 May 2024. You were the first doctor from the SGH Liver Team to see me that day. At that time, I cannot remember who saw me, I cannot remember faces, and I do not know what happened during that period until early April 2025, when traces of my fractured memories started coming back to me slowly with plenty of blank spaces. And, through my wife and daughter, and a bedside journal maintained by my wife on my behalf, I got a glimpse of how my days were like, the fear, the words spoken, and the decisions made, that would determine my fate.
While I lay there in my fog of despair, unaware of the battle being fought for my life, you looked at my distressed, lost, and traumatized wife and daughter, and you firmly and decisively told them and me - "You are only 67 years old. Still young. Go for the transplant." Those words were a lifeline. At a time when they see me fading away, and I had already given up on myself, you were there speaking to them with clarity when everything around them was chaos. Your word feels like a verdict to them, like someone switching on a light in a dark room. Not because the danger has disappeared, but because there was a direction. A path. A reason to keep going. You did not see me as a "gone case" patient with liver failure, but a human whose life was still worth fighting for.
You told them that you would put me on the transplant workup immediately so that I could be placed on the waiting list for a matching deceased-donor liver. You acted and followed up with urgency and speed. I learnt from my wife that I was difficult during the workup. I was uncooperative, resistant, and insisted on giving up on the painful workup. But, you and your team of doctors pushed me on knowing the state of my mind - lost, confused, and unable to judge. For example, in my journal record, when I insisted on giving up my workup midway, Dr Thinesh Lee spoke to my wife and daughter in my presence immediately. I recalled Dr Thinesh's words to all of us - "If you stop your workup now, you will not live beyond 2024." And, during this pre-transplant period, there was another doctor in your team who came to my wife and daughter when they were lost, stressed and exhausted. She was Dr Samantha Koh. She was a beacon of lights to my wife and daughter during that period.
In the end, I completed my workup and was quickly placed on the waiting list for a donor liver.
On July 11, 2024—barely two months later—I received a deceased donor liver. And today, the first day of 2026, I am alive to write this letter, alive to understand what my wife and daughter had gone through, alive to feel the full weight of your role, and alive to feel gratitude with a clear mind.
I want to thank you for your decisive actions, judgement, and seeing a life worth saving when I could not see it myself.
I am alive today because of you. My wife still has her husband. My daughter still has her father. My 6 years old grand daughter still has her grandfather. And I have been given the precious gift of more time—time to remember, to hope, and to be grateful. And to see my wife being well, my daughter completing her PhD and started her work as a Professor of Practice at Singapore University of Technology and Design, and to see my grand daughter going from kindergarten to Primary 1 in RGPS tomorrow. All of which I have never thought I could live to see.
There are no words adequate enough for me to express what you have done for me and my family. You have left an indelible mark on our lives. You are not just a doctor to us—you are the reason I have a future. I will always remember you, and will always be grateful to you.
With deepest gratitude and profound respect,
Ding Ting Hock
1 January 2026